


Dig Here

by Cesare



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Re-Education, SCIENCE!, Time Travel, time capsule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dig here," Cecil told him, and Carlos has done stranger things on their dates— to be fair, he’s <em>suggested</em> doing stranger things on their dates— so he dug there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dig Here

"Dig here," Cecil told him, and Carlos has done stranger things on their dates— to be fair, he’s _suggested_ doing stranger things on their dates— so he dug there.

It always surprises Carlos how well they work together, a communion he’s only aspired to achieve with his best colleagues in the lab. Cecil automatically falls into position facing Carlos, following his lead and digging on Carlos's off strokes; their shovels turn up earth in perfect sync til Cecil’s clangs against metal and he beams at Carlos, all excitement. “Here it is!”

"Do I get to know what we’re digging up now?" Carlos asks, dragging his lab coat sleeve across his brow. He’s glad he didn’t wear the nice one for this, but for a trip out to the scrub lands near sunset, he correctly guessed he should bring something lightweight and stain-resistant.

"I got a call at the station about a time capsule!" Cecil carefully clears the dirt away from the violet-silver domed hexagon, and digs a little more around the edges. "According to the caller, it’s from 2075."

Of his many questions, Carlos opts for, “Why is it buried? Presumably they sent it back by way of time travel… why not just send it back above-ground?”

"What kind of time capsule would that be?" Cecil asks, and with nothing but a couple of nods exchanged, they arrange themselves on either side of the hexagon and use their shovels to lever it up together. Once it’s exposed, Cecil beams proudly. "There you go. All yours."

"Mine?"

"That’s why I wanted to make it a date! It seemed like the kind of thing you’d want to test and examine before anyone else got their hands on it," says Cecil. "Right?"

If Carlos were the kind of guy who said _Aw, babe,_ he’d be saying it now. He gives Cecil a slightly sweaty hug instead, kisses his cheek, and squats to examine the capsule, taking pictures with his phone. The latch looks intuitive enough. He unhooks it, and the lid opens itself with a hydraulic whoosh.

It looks empty inside at first: there’s only a scrap of paper. Carlos takes his tweezers out of his inner lab coat pocket and carefully picks it up, examining it.

The print looks typewritten, though it’s probably just a typewriter font: “Time travel re-outlawed 2052. If you’re reading this, report to City Council for re-education.”

"Curse it all," Cecil sighs, resigned. "I just finally got out the bloodstains from the last time."

"Nobody’s getting re-educated," Carlos frowns.

"Well, you’re not," says Cecil. "You weren’t educated here to begin with, so they can’t very well re-educate you. Or they would've tried already."

That explains that, and comes as something of a relief, but Carlos thinks fast. “That message you got, telling you about the capsule… what was the voice like?”

"Just the usual unidentifiable hissing whisper, shaped by a mouth that sounds sharp-toothed and lipless."

"You can do that with the voice changer out of a kid’s spy kit from the drugstore. Did it sound like it could be coming from a tan Corolla?"

"Steve Carlsberg." Cecil’s eyes narrow. "That’s just the kind of thing he would do, that Steve!”

Carlos used to think Cecil was being unfair to Steve when he railed against him on his radio show. But that was before Carlos saw the guy smirking at parents’ fears during the summer reading program, and urging people to ride the new subway, and saying “Good riddance” when no one could get in touch with Dana after her daring escape from the dog park. And Carlos has never in his life noticed anyone’s hubcaps before, but even he has to admit that Carlsberg’s look pretty hard-done by, crusted with something Carlos chooses to believe is rust. Thick, gooey red-brown rust.

Now, Carlos has no compunctions at all about bagging the note, tucking it away, and telling Cecil, “It was probably him on the phone. Just a mean-spirited prank. We’ll bury this again and I’ll take you out to dinner. Have you had your Big Rico’s slice yet this week?”

"What about," Cecil makes the batusi-like dance move that symbolizes the Sheriff’s Secret Police, and points up to indicate the near-certainty of constant scrutiny.

"They’re probably already on their way to Steve’s now to give him a warning about falsifying an instance of time travel," Carlos improvises. So far, whenever he’s made a wild guess that something’s illegal in Night Vale, he’s always been right.

Cecil nods, smiling grimly, and helps Carlos re-bury the capsule. Carlos lets him drive back to town— Cecil loves driving his coupe— and sets SHREDroid to work deleting the photos of the capsule cleanly off his phone. He checks his surveillance jammer. Lots of instances detected, all with comforting green COUNTERED messages alongside.

If the Secret Police used bloodstones or chanting or some other non-electronic means to spy on them, he’s not sure his devices could stop that. But he’ll cross that bridge, and if necessary lure those government officials to the Whispering Forest, when he comes to it. Carlos may not be able to protect Cecil from all the crazy dangers around here, but no one’s re-educating Carlos’s boyfriend. It’s strange to have something in his life he’d go to such lengths for, besides science, but this relationship is the best strange thing Night Vale’s given him and Carlos doesn’t plan to let go.

Cecil parks near Big Rico’s and sighs. “Sorry my big idea for our date was a bust.”

"Aw, babe," Carlos says despite himself, and he reaches over and scritches the nape of Cecil’s neck, the way that always makes Cecil shiver and smile at him goofily. "No problem. We still have all night."


End file.
